The Devil looks out for his own." "Yes, we shall have to stay here all night, if we wait for that book to burn up," said Master Herrick.

"Now if it had been a Bible, or a Psalm-book, it would have been consumed by this time." "My father told me," said one of the crowd, "that they were once six weeks trying to burn up some witch's book in Holland, and then had to tear each leaf separately before they could burn it." "Where is the yellow bird--her familiar--that she was sending on some witch's errand when we were watching at the window ?" said another of the crowd.
"Oh, it's not likely you will find the yellow bird," replied Herrick.
"It is halfway down to hell by this time." "No, there it is!" cried Jethro Sands, pointing to a ledge over the door, where the canary-bird had flown in its fright.
"Kill it! kill the familiar! Kill the devil's imp!" came in various voices, the angry tones being not without an inflection of fear.
Several pulled out their rapiers.

Jethro was the quickest.

He made a desperate lunge at the little creature, and impaled it on the point of his weapon.
Dulcibel shook off the hold of the constable and sprang forward.

"Oh, my pretty Cherry," she cried, taking the dead bird from the point of the rapier.